


Charming and Disarming

by SgurrDearg



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6262990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgurrDearg/pseuds/SgurrDearg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after the Inquisition disbanded, Josephine has successfully rebuilt her family's fleet and trade is booming. That is, until a mysterious ship begins targeting her business. Desperate for answers, she turns to an old acquaintance for help and ends up getting more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iselmyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iselmyr/gifts).



The messenger balked under her gaze as he delivered the news. This was the second time this month, fourth overall. Josephine took a deep breath and nodded her thanks at the messenger, who almost tripped over his feet to get out of the room as fast as possible. Shaking, Josephine sat back down at her desk, burying her head in her hands. Who was doing this? It wasn’t just the money; people were dying. _Her_ people were _dying_.

Josephine turned and gazed out of her window. The Antivan sun was shining and glittering off the turquoise sea, the fishing boats bobbing in the harbour. Everything looked so calm and beautiful. So vastly different to what she was dealing with. She turned back to her desk and began rifling through her papers for the fourth time.

It had started a few months ago. On the 14th of Bloomingtide, to be exact. She remembered receiving the news just like this, standing in her office, interrupted from writing a trading report. The rain had been pouring down that day, bouncing off the window pane. The messenger had come in, clutching the parchment in his hands, staring at his feet. His voice had shaken when he told her. Told her that her carraca had been sunk, as well as its convoy. That there were only one, maybe two survivors.

Now that number of survivors was up to around twenty. The number of dead over ten times that many. Probably more. And she had no idea who, or why, or how to make it stop. Josephine stopped looking through her reports and sighed, head in hands again. She would need to stop trying to trade, at least until this was over. It was no accident that it was her ships being attacked, this was clear.

She stood again, and rang for her servant. The news had rattled her, and more than anything she needed a good cup of tea and something laden with sugar. The world of commerce was fraught with peril anyway, particularly in Antiva where everything was overseen by the Crows standing silently in the shadows. She had borne the brunt of that with her family’s downfall years previously. But she had worked hard to fix that, with the Inquisitor’s help, of course. It had never been like this though, their losses had been to their standing in society, their profits. Never blood. Never this much blood.

Her servant left the room as quickly as she had arrived, and returned with a tray of tea and cakes. Josephine feigned a smile and thanked her, pouring herself a cup and leaning back in her chair. She needed to remain calm, and find any clues. She’d had trouble with pirates, but they had never caused so much trouble. She knew the captains well, and this was not their style. They fought to capture a ship, to keep the cargo. Not to sink it.

A few hours passed. The shock had worn off a little, and she was doing better. The cake had helped. She needed to make contact with her rival captains, that was easy enough. At least, compared to the past few years it was. Trade rivalries were nothing in comparison to the political negotiations of the Inquisition. The only problem… Josephine drank the last dregs of her second pot of tea and rubbed her eyes. The only problem was she was certain it was nothing to do with them. She needed to speak to her surviving crew, perhaps they had some clues.

Josephine had considered sending a messenger to speak to the survivors, but this was something she needed to do herself. She could only trust herself to get the right information, and in purely Orlesian thinking, it would do a lot for her reputation as an employer to be seen visiting the wounded. She also couldn’t shake the feeling that she owed it to them. The thought of it all made her feel sick.

Before leaving on her fact-finding mission, she scoured her previous reports again. There were two mentions of the ship’s sails. Both stated that the sails had been black as coal, with one report describing the flag in very little detail. All it said was that there was something large and red on the flag. She couldn’t find anything else to help her, and nothing in her trading reports mentioned any companies that flew a similar flag. She needed to make sure and press the poor survivors for more information. It would surely be worth it in the long run, if it amounted to anything. Rubbing her tired eyes, Josephine grabbed a large naval directory from the bookshelf on the wall behind her and started reading.


	2. Chapter Two

The sun was streaming through the open window, a light breeze blowing the delicate curtains around. Josephine opened her eyes and rolled down her covers. Sitting up, she pulled up her hair and tied it into a loose knot on her head and yawned. She’d stayed up late in her office, searching for any recent records of a ship with black floral sails. It had been a waste of a sleepless night. All she had were in her own records, and that was precious little to go on.

A knock on the door broke her reverie.

“Ma’am? I have your breakfast.”

“Ah! Lucía, of course. Just a moment!” she stood up and took her pink peignoir from its hook beside the door and put it on before letting her maid enter.

Lucía opened the door, deftly carrying a tray of croissants, butter and a painted teapot from which steam was flowing out of. Her neat brown bun bobbed behind her as she walked in, placing the tray on the ottoman at the end of Josephine’s bed and opening the curtains, doing her morning’s work.

Josephine lay on the bed and poured herself a cup of hot tea, smiling as Lucía opened the curtains and window further, letting the cool sea breeze air the whole room. The Antivan breeze was a world away from the howling gales that Skyhold used to let in through the broken windows and walls. Much more pleasant. She buttered a croissant and took a small bite, thinking about what she could do that day. Revisiting the survivors from the first wreck was her only lead at the moment.

Lucía stayed to help her dress for the day, in a pretty yet practical outfit as always. Yvette always teased about Josephine’s lack of gowns in her daily wardrobe, saying it was easy to be the most fashionable daughter of the house of Montilyet, but there was no point dressing so grandly when one’s legs were hidden beneath a desk all day. She liked to compensate by choosing the most beautiful fabrics and impressive pieces of jewellery instead. Besides, Josephine thought, as Lucía draped a large gold and topaz necklace around her neck, if she had to be walking around the city all day; tunics, tights and comfortable shoes were the preferable choice.

She had wasted no time in procuring the first survivors’ addresses and had headed across the Boulevard of the Seas to the other side of town as soon as she was dressed. The beautiful blue-green road bisected the city, separating the rich estates from the markets and the docks. And the slums.

The first survivor she spoke to was the one who had mentioned the black flag in his previous report. He didn’t want to remember that day, he said; but a large coin purse soon changed his mind. A shame his answers weren’t worth the payment. All he did was reiterate his report. A black flag. He was too busy trying to load the cannons to take a good look at who he was firing at.

Feeling more than a little disappointed, Josephine left to speak with the other survivor, a man named Albatro. He did not live far away, the slums by the docks were tightly packed full of fishermen and sailors. She found him sitting on a crate outside his house, smoking a pipe and stroking a flea-ridden cat on his lap. Hs eyes were glassy, and although he turned his face towards her when she spoke, he seemed to stare straight past her.

“Hello? Is it ok if I join you? My name is Josephine Montilyet, I owned the ship you sailed on. The one that was attacked.”

“Sí, I remember that name.” Albatro gestured with his pipe to a crate a few feet away, which Josephine dusted before sitting down upon it.

“I’m sorry to trouble you. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there have been other attacks on my family’s fleet. I am trying to find out anything I can to find out who is responsible.”

“and what do you wish of me?” he puffed on his pipe.

“Well, I’ve heard reports of the ship having a black sail… I was wondering if you could corroborate that? If you could tell me more, that is, or confirm it?”

“You’ll be knowing that this,” he waved his pipe in front of his eyes as he spoke, “happened in the attack then?”

“But of course, we received extensive reports on our survivors. I trust the compensation was acceptable?”

“Enough that my Gloria doesn’t have to work double shifts, sí. That’s all I asked for.”

“That is good. I am sorry to ask, but it really is necessary. Did you see anything, before…?”

“Sí. This happened at the end of… it. There was a big black ship. Black sails. They weren’t all black though… there was something on them. Flowers. Roses, perhaps? I didn’t see the crew though.”

“Thank you,” Josephine withdrew a coin purse from her cloak and pressed it into his pipe-free hand, feeling the cat purring beneath. “that is very helpful. It seems these attacks are no random chance. I must go, I have some friends I must contact. I am very grateful for your service, and your help today.”


	3. Chapter Three

That evening she read over her letter a third time, making sure it didn’t sound too frantic or worried. She just needed advice, she wrote. Finally, satisfied, she rolled up the parchment and sealed it with golden wax and the family seal, before tying it up in a velvet ribbon. She turned to her office window, and the raven waiting there, staring at her with his beady eyes.

“Hello, Baron Plucky. Just let me attach this to you, please!”

The bird seemed to understand her, and shifted his weight to allow Josephine better access to his leg, where she tied the letter. He cocked his head at her when she was done, and after a head pat he flew out the window. There. Now Josephine just had to wait.

She didn’t wait long, as she had suspected. The letter from Leliana arrived not two days later, during a delightful game of chess in the gardens with her brother, Laurien. The game was abandoned as Josephine strode to her office to read it, ignoring her brother’s protests.

_Dearest Josephine,_

_I am pleased you are well, despite this situation. You were right to call on me. I’m afraid I don’t have any information pertaining to this ship with the black sails, but I have a contact who might. At the very least, she should be able to assist you. She owes me a favour as I hired her as an Inquisition agent a few years ago to save her from a spot of bother, so you will know–_

The office door slammed open. Josephine jumped up from her desk, the letter floating to the floor.

Standing in the doorway was a tall woman in a long coat, with long brown curls cascading down her shoulders, pinned back by a blue headscarf and a jaunty Admiral’s hat. She smirked at Josephine before swaggering into the room.

“I hear you needed me?”

Josephine just stared at her. She did recognise her; Isabela her name was. The pirate captain who was a friend of Varric’s. Somehow he and Leliana had convinced her to join the Inquisition as an agent not long after they’d arrived at Skyhold. As one of Leliana’s people, Josephine had had little to do with her, save seeing her around the castle sometimes. She smiled at her intruder. No. Her guest? She bent down to pick up the fallen letter from her trusted friend and glanced at it whilst waving at a comfortable chair in front of her desk, inviting Isabela to sit down. There was no reason to be rude.

_\- her. Her name is Isabela, and she still goes by the title Admiral. We still don’t know if she has legitimate claim to the title, but that is inconsequential. She is a very competent sailor, captain and rogue. She should be able to help you; I would not have pointed her in your direction if I did not think so. She will name a price._

_Take care my dear friend,_

_Lady Nightingale_

_P.S. Thank you for the ribbons you sent before. Schmooples II and Boulette look very pretty._

She looked up from the letter to see the pirate perched on the arm of the chair, still smirking at her.

“Ah, my apologies. Isabela, is it not? A pleasure.” She held out her hand to the other woman, expecting her to shake it in return. Instead, her golden eyes darkened as she bent down to turn Josephine’s hand, gently, and press a kiss to it.

“Oh believe me darling, the pleasure is all mine.”

Josephine felt her cheeks grow hot as words caught in her throat and fought each other to escape. It was better to nod in reply than risk the jumbled sentence that was bound to be spoken. It wasn’t often that she found herself tongue-tied.

In an effort to get back on topic, she tapped the letter in her hand.

“Lady Nightingale sent you to assist me with… a matter? Did she give you any information?”

“Did she brief me you mean? Asking if I need a de-briefing?” she gave that sly smile again and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, “I’m afraid my briefs remain untouched. That job’s all yours.”

The merchant gave an awkward cough as she avoided Isabela’s gaze.

“Right… very good. Can I get you a beverage while I tell you?”

“Something strong would be good.”

Josephine laughed. “I think I can ask the cook to leave the tea leaves to stoop a little longer. A clear head makes for better decision-making; don’t you agree?” She gave a sweet smile to her guest, determined not to let her have the upper hand. Charming and disarming though she may be, money would come into this eventually. She valued her men’s lives and her family’s trade, but rebuilding a fleet was expensive and she could not afford to lose any more money than was necessary.

“Fine. Dull, but fine.” Isabela waved her hand dismissively, but the gleam in her eye told Josephine that she had recognised her taking control.

When the tea had been called for and poured out, Josephine regaled Isabela with the attacks, giving as much detail as possible. She described the black flag with the roses, but was disappointed to see Isabela shake her head in unfamiliarity.

Information shared, Josephine sat back holding her teacup.

“That is everything I know. I can share the records with you if you wish, but I have extracted all the useful facts. I need someone to go out in one of my family’s ships. Someone I can count on to survive. I must find out who is doing this, and why, and I must have them stopped.”

“You’ve got a lot riding on this. I could do that. I’m a good duellist and a better sailor. But I don’t work for free. I don’t even work for hire, but your Lady Nightingale can be very… ah… persuasive in her songs.”

“Yes, she did tell me you would name a price. I’m willing to negotiate.”

“Negotiate with a merchant and diplomat? Ooh, I like a challenge.” A ghost of a wink flickered on Isabela’s face.

Josephine did not respond. All through telling her guest about her troubles, she had managed to ignore the obvious fidgeting, smirks and those golden eyes… at least, she had not let her observations show. She knew how to play cards, and she knew a cheat when she saw one. Now to watch for her tells.

“Fine, don’t play. A thousand gold.”

A splutter of laughter almost slipped out of Josephine’s lips. One thousand! She really did like a challenge, it seemed. “Nice try, Admiral. Two hundred.”

The game went on for half the afternoon. Isabela continued to preen and pout, but Josephine held her ground.

“Are we settled on five hundred gold? More tea?” Josephine tapped her quill against the ink pot, eager to finish and sign the contract she had drawn up during a brief tea break.

Isabela gave a dramatic sigh and smiled at her. “Fine by me, darling.”

“Good, I’m pleased we could reach an arrangement so soon.”

Josephine started scribbling with her quill again as Isabela looked askance at the words, “so soon” and fidgeted in her seat.

“So, am I going to be doing this right away? Or can I slip away to a tavern? Perhaps you’ll let your hair down and join me.”

“You’re going to leave before signing our contract? So eager to waiver your right to the money?” Josephine giggled and spun the parchment around so Isabela could read it.

The pirate glanced over the page with a keen eye. Satisfied, she held out her hand for the quill to sign it. Josephine gave it to her, touching hands as she did. Her cheeks reddened once again and whipped her hand away. A low chuckle from Isabela let her know that her blushes had not gone unseen. As soon as the contract was signed, she took it and lay it on top of an overflowing pile of documents.

Isabela offered the quill back to her with a wicked gleam in her eye. Josephine hesitated; making eye contact, before taking it. Isabela made sure to brush her fingers over Josephine’s in the process. Her touch made Josephine shiver.

“Well, well, you’re easily flustered, aren’t you?”

“It’s cold in here. The window is open.”

“Really? You seem very warm to me…”

Josephine sighed. She would have to put up with this for quite a while. Maybe it wasn’t too late to rip up the contract and ask Leliana for someone else…? No, no. No need to be silly. Her professors during her university years had always told her she was gifted with a silver tongue, perhaps she could use it in this situation too. Anything to stop this endless flirting. Maker, was it distracting.

“Not as warm as you, it seems. Perhaps you should go warm up a room elsewhere for now.”

“Such hospitality! Or was that an invitation…?”

“We have some pleasantly cool rooms on the east wing of the house, quite far from anyone you may burn up in the process. I can arrange for a maid to take you there and get a room ready for you.”

“Ooh, keeping me far away so you aren’t tempted?” Isabela’s eyes flashed. She was not so easily beaten, and this game was far too fun for her.

Josephine stood up, pushing her chair back. “This… is a very important business matter. Not only that, but people’s lives are at risk. I would appreciate it if you would treat it as such. With respect. And I would appreciate it if you, Admiral, would treat me with respect also. This is not a game. Lady Nightingale trusts your abilities, so I would hope you will spend your time honing them rather than your skills in flirtation.”

Isabela rose too, looking Josephine in the eye. “Sorry, darling. I will stop any time, and especially if you don’t like it. But I’ll have you know that flirting with you doesn’t mean I don’t respect you. Quite the opposite, actually,” she gave an appraising look that made Josephine quiver, just a little, before swaggering out to the doorway, “and I can stay in a tavern if you’d prefer.”

“I… No. You are my guest, and I am grateful for your assistance in this rather delicate matter. You will be most welcome in my home. Please, let me ring for my maid and we will ready a room for you.”

“And the teasing?”

“This is an important mission I have for you, I would rather we focus on the matters at hand. This is a business contract after all.” Josephine looked down and hid her hands behind her back. In her training as a bard, her fumbling hands had been the hardest habit to curb when she was nervous or lying.

“What about after business hours?” That wicked smile of Isabela’s flashed again.

“Oh… Well… It… would not be interfering, I suppose… of course.”

“Of course. Shall we go and get me into bed then?”

“Admiral! I…” Josephine felt the sudden heat rush to her cheeks and couldn’t help but clap her hand to her mouth.

“Relax, sweet thing. I’m teasing you. Shall we find my bedroom?”

“I… shall call the maid. Did you not hear me just now? About this… flirting during working?”

“Oh yes, you made your point. But that contract is signed and filed, so now I get to make you blush as much as you want!”

Josephine smiled despite herself. In truth, her reactions to Isabela’s advances were what troubled her. She was being reduced to a giggling schoolgirl, worse than Yvette! What was more, she didn’t dislike it. What had Leliana gotten her into?


	4. Chapter Four

Isabela had settled into her room. She hadn’t brought very much in the way of belongings, so it wasn’t long before she left the bedroom and found her way back to Josephine. She found her in the garden, walking around a tiled ornamental pond, deep in thought.

“Hello again, Petal.”

Josephine started, and tripped over a loose tile. In an instant, she squeaked and waved her arms to the side, trying to right herself. Trying not to fall in the water. She was falling sideways into the cool blue pool despite her best efforts, the surface of the water coming ever closer.

She felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around her waist and pull her upright. Dazed, she just stood there, still in the tight embrace.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you. You can let go of me now.” Isabela’s voice came from over Josephine’s right shoulder and she looked down to see her own hands clutching Isabela’s forearms.

“My goodness! I… am so sorry. Thank you, Admiral, for your timely rescue,” Josephine let go of her saviour and dusted her dress down, still very aware of Isabela wrapped around her.

“As appealing as the sight of you in a wet dress would be, I didn’t think you’d thank me for it.”

Josephine gave a shy smile and took a step away out of the embrace.

“I wouldn’t have. Thank you.” She gave a slight bow in gratitude, to which Isabela raised an eyebrow in response. Why had she just bowed to her? She was the noblewoman here! Her cheeks flushed red.

“Now, lovely as that was, Petal, I actually came to find you for a different reason.”

“Oh?” Josephine searched Isabela’s face, but for the first time that day she showed no signs of amusement at her embarrassment.

“I’ve had an idea. It might not pay off, but it’s better than waiting and launching a fleet blindly. I’ve been to Antiva City many times, and I know the… more exciting parts of town very well. I know a tavern or two that lots of dirty sailors and pirates like to visit. A few brothels too,” she winked at Josephine before continuing, “and these boys get lonely. Two beautiful women, several pints of ale… doesn’t take much to get them talking.”

“Oh! That sounds… quite fortuitous. Leliana was right about you. I think that will help us, if one of these sailors have seen this ship too- “

“-or worked on it.”

“Oh yes! Perfect. Although… I am not sure it is entirely proper for me to be seen frequenting taverns, and… Well. Perhaps you should go alone?”

“Not feeling adventurous? Very well. But I warn you, after I’ve drunk them under the table I can’t guarantee that I’ll remember anything they’ve told me. If you want to make sure you get your information, you’ll need to tag along and put those bardic skills to use.”

Josephine narrowed her eyes at Isabela. “How did you know?”

“You’re joking? That way you watch my every move and listen to every word I say. Your carefully chosen words and controlled movements. Clear signs of a bard. When you’ve been around as long as I have, you get to notice them. Unless I’m wrong, and you just like to look at me.”

Smiling, she shook her head. “I trained as a bard, many years ago. I did not last long in the profession.”

“Well then, come and dust off your skills. You never know, you might even have _fun_.”

“Very well, I will trust your judgement. We can leave after dinner… I’m sure I can find something suitable to wear in that time.”


	5. Chapter Five

They were standing outside a dingy looking tavern. Its front door was hanging off the hinges and the sign above the door was so caked in dirt and soot, it was impossible to make out the name. Josephine made a face at the sight of it, which prompted Isabela to burst into peals of warm laughter.

“So it’s not the Royal Palace. But you’ll have a much better time here than at a fancy ball.”

Josephine joined in the laughter, “oh really? And how do you know that?”

“Ahh, dear Petal. Because I’m here. Come on, let’s pound these sailors into submission.”

Isabela pushed open the broken door, and they entered. It was as dark and dirty inside as it had appeared outside. Low hanging lanterns swung from the wooden ceiling filled with tallow candles. They were giving off a lot of smoke and adding to the vile aroma. Every now and then a glob of wax would slide down the candle and drip onto an unsuspecting patron’s head. Judging from the garbled stream of vulgarities one bald man was screaming, it was a particularly painful sensation. Josephine stepped carefully over the threshold, keeping her eyes peeled at the lighting overhead.

The tavern was filled with a throng of people, mostly large burly men from what Josephine could see through the dim light. There were a few people in long cloaks concealing their faces- not an uncommon sight in Antiva. Isabela took hold of Josephine’s hand and led her through the crowd to the bar, where a toothless woman grinned at them.

“What drinks d’you want?”

Josephine glanced at Isabela, hoping she would have an idea of what was palatable.

“I’ll have two pints of your best Dwarven ale!”

_Ah. She did not._ Josephine smiled at the barmaid and Isabela and tried not to grimace at the overflowing frothy mug. They walked over to a table of four men sitting playing cards, and Isabela affixed a winning smile.

“Any sailors here to tell a girl some exciting stories?”

The men leered at her and bunched up on the bench they were sitting on. One of them, a man with a large bushy beard speckled with beer froth, patted the seat next to him.

“Oh no, don’t you know how to treat a lady? You can get us stools, or we’ll find someone else to talk to.”

Bushy beard grumbled, but one of the others got up and found two clumsily-made stools for the two women to sit upon. Josephine sat down next to Isabela and placed her mug of ale on the table, trying not to look at the explicit painting on the wall in front of her.

“So, boys,” Isabela crossed her long legs and leaned over the filthy table, “been on any exciting adventures lately?”

Bushy beard dragged his eyes away from her thighs and took a swig of his beer. “Might have done. What kind of adventure you looking for?”

“The kind that involve really… big… boats.”

Josephine snorted into the ale she had been attempting to try. It smelled vile. She put it back onto the table untouched.

Isabela was still waiting for an answer from the men. She looked them all up and down before adding, “Don’t tell me you boys don’t have any exciting tales of battles on the high seas?”

Bushy beard leaned forward. “Might do.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “And…?”

“What do I get in return?” he gave a nasty sneer at the both of them.

“Ugh, you pig. How about I don’t smash your teeth in?” Isabela stood up, glowering at him.

Josephine reached up and lay her hand on Isabela’s arm. “If I may… why don’t we play you for your stories?” she glanced at the stack of playing cards on the table. “If we lose, we have to buy your next three rounds.”

Isabela lowered herself back onto the seat and grinned at Josephine. “Quick thinking, Petal!”

The four men looked at each other and at last bushy beard nodded at her. Josephine snatched the packs of cards and began shuffling, the cards almost flying out of her hands but always making their way back to the pack. She only needed to shuffle for a minute before tapping the pack on the table and making a neat pile.

Isabela whistled and raised her eyes at Josephine, “very impressive.”

“I try,” she smiled sweetly in response and dealt the cards to all the players, as fast as she had shuffled them. The four men stared at her. She just smiled. “Wicked Grace, everyone?”

“Fine by me.” Isabela grabbed her card hand and leaned back, grinning.

The sailors still looked rather shell-shocked at Josephine’s sudden taking charge. One by one they nodded and looked at their hands. Josephine surveyed the group with a gleam in her eye. The filth and noise had made her nervous before, but here she was in control.

She looked down at her hand. It wasn’t bad; a pair of knights, a song, a dagger and a serpent. Considering the game was using two packs of cards between six people, it was fairly good. In Josephine’s hands, it was a winner. Keeping her face straight with no giveaways, she looked at the others. Isabela was still lounging, leaning back on the stool and looking like she couldn’t care less how the game would go. As Josephine watched her, however, she saw Isabela stealing glances at the men’s faces. She turned her head ever so slightly to look at Josephine, catching her eye. They both grinned. The game was theirs already.

Josephine held up a finger, “before we begin our little game, we should decide how many hands to go. Will five suffice?”

Bushy beard looked over at his drinking buddies, who shrugged and grunted in reply. He nodded at Josephine and she smiled.

“Good. Now, Isabela, I believe as I dealt, you get to discard first.”

As the round went on, Josephine started to doubt the men’s conversational skills. A game of Wicked Grace was always fun, but the information was vital and for all her linguistic skill she wasn’t sure she could translate grunt and groan. Nevertheless, she won the round easily with her hand, and had managed to work out a few of the men’s tells.

The bald man on bushy beard’s left had an eye twitch every so often when he picked up a new card. Judging from the fact that he folded early on, she surmised that it indicated his displeasure. One of the others scratched his nose, and the man in between them openly smiled several times.

Isabela was harder to read. She continued to appear laid back, but never showed any tells that Josephine could notice. Sometimes she would notice Josephine glancing at her and wink in return. More often Josephine could see the men staring at Isabela’s long legs and eyeing her up, which she seemed to be encouraging with fidgets and squirms on the stool.

Isabela won the second round with a two pair. The men were growing increasingly grumpier at being bested, which was turning out in the women’s favour. Their tells were becoming more obvious in their frustration, and the third round went by in a blur as Josephine proudly laid out her hand of four songs.

Bushy beard sighed and sat back on the bench. “Fine. That’s us beat. What are you after then?”

Before Josephine could answer, Isabela leaned towards him. “A ship with black sails. Seen one recently? Around Rialto Bay?”

The men shared a dark look. The bald one scowled at her. “Yeah. More’n that too. Sailed on it.”

“Aha. And what were-“

“The sails,” Josephine interrupted, “what else is on the sails? They aren’t just black.”

“Roses. Red roses with big thorns. _La Espina Roja._ ”

Satisfied, she nodded and beckoned for Isabela to continue her line of questioning.

“Are you still working in the ship’s crew?” Isabela’s golden eyes flashed at the men.

“No.”

She waved her hand at him to elaborate.

“Quit.”

“A delightful and wordy story to be sure. We need more. Why did you quit? Who captains the ship?”

Bushy beard rubbed his eyes and stared into the bottom of his mug. “We don’t know his name. Everyone just calls him El Tío. He’s…”

“horrible,” the bald man cut in.

“Yeah. Horrible. He’ll beat the crew to within an inch of their life when he feels like it. Does worse to the cargo.”

Isabela’s eyes darkened. “The cargo?”

Bushy beard met her eyes and bowed his head.

“Oh no. I’ve dealt with his kind before. He won’t live another week. Where can we find him? Is he on land now?”

“Last we heard, yeah. Been keeping a low profile. He don’t like his crew deserting.”

“Who does.” Isabela muttered. “Do you know where he could be? In the City?”

“Probably. He thinks a lot of himself, won’t come near this part of town unless he’s recruiting.”

“For crew or cargo?”

“Both,” he spat, “but if he’s selling or getting his jollies he’ll be in your part of town,” he nodded his head to Josephine, “he likes the public baths.”

Isabela shook her head. “Petal, that should narrow it down. Know any slavers?”

“What?! Of course not. I do _not_ trade with slavers.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Isabela laughed, “but you might have come across one?”

“No… not that I can think of. I’d already thought of any trade disagreements that might be causing this. Say,” Josephine tapped the table in front of the sailors, “have you heard of the House Montilyet?”

The bald sailor scratched his chin. “Nope. I haven’t. Any of you?” The other men shook their filthy heads.

“Then the Captain is not letting his information slip to the crew. Is there nothing you can give us about this… Tío’s appearance? Something to help us find him.”

“Tall. Dark hair. That’s it. Well, he also had a funny accent.”

Isabela rolled her eyes. “A lengthy description. So, not Antivan? Or…”

“No, and he didn’t sound Southern either.”

“Tevinter?” Josephine whispered, frowning.

“Considering it’s a slave ship, it’s pretty likely to me. We’ll get him, Petal. Don’t worry.” Isabela patted Josephine’s hand.

“I’m still not sure why a slave ship of all things would be attacking my fleet.”

“Who cares? We’ve got enough against this Tío man to make him worth killing.”

Josephine winced. “Perhaps it will not come to bloodshed. We shall see.”

The bald sailor drained his drink and leered at them. “We’ll be going then. You won your bet and that’s all we’ve got.”

“Thank you for your help. We will do our best,” Josephine gave the men a warm smile.

The men got up and walked out, leaving a row of empty ale mugs on the table. Josephine’s and Isabela’s still brimming mugs stood out by comparison.

“Not drinking, Admiral?”

“Well, I always find a clear head makes for better decision-making, wouldn’t you agree?” she laughed, “besides, it tastes like piss and it’s probably made from it too. We’d look suspicious in here without a drink anyway.”

“Fair enough. Shall we go? I should like to write this up in a report as soon as possible.”

Isabela stood and leant on the table. “How dull. I take you to a lovely tavern and all you want to do is go home and work. Come on, our new friends have left their cards.” She picked up a few and packed them together. “Let’s finish our game.”

She giggled. “Ok. One game. It will go by very quickly I am sure. Antivans are renowned for their skills in card games, so I’m not entirely sure what the point is.”

“Don’t be so sure, sweet thing. I’m a pirate. I play dirty. You don’t stand a chance. I’ll deal.”

She slid off the table and sat herself at the bench opposite to Josephine and started sorting the cards.

“Need a hand sorting the decks?”

“Please. Trying to make sure I don’t put any extra cards in?”

“I have no doubt you’ll find another way to cheat, Admiral.”

Both of them laughed as they managed to filter out the cards from the other deck and set them aside. Isabela dealt the hands this time.

“You know, what is the point in playing? Truly I think this match is one-sided.”

“Like I said, I have more than one trick up my sleeve, Petal. And the point is, I want to see you lose all your coin to me and then lose your clothes.”

“My clo- Oh!” Josephine blushed furiously. “My, well. I hate to break it to you, Admiral Isabela, but I believe I hold substantially more coin than you do. I think it is you who will be losing your clothes first.”

“Fine, have it your way. As long as at least one of us is left totally nude, I’m quite happy.” Her foot brushed against Josephine’s leg under the table and sent tingles running up her spine.

“Isabela… if you are trying to… um, distract me from our game, it won’t work.”

“Shame. I’ll try harder next time.” She winked at her and continued to rest her foot by Josephine’s leg.

Josephine looked at her cards and discarded the serpent of sadness with trembling fingers. She drew an angel of charity in its place and made no expression as she placed it next to the angel of truth in her hand. She wouldn’t be the one losing her clothes this round, she thought, and then blushed again. Realising her mistake of reacting she made a deliberate effort not to make eye contact with Isabela, who had begun running her foot up Josephine’s leg again.

She threw her cards down onto the table. “Isabela! Admiral. How am I supposed to concentrate?”

Isabela purred. “You aren’t.”

“Then there is no point in continuing to play.”

“So I won?” Isabela rose from her seat, beaming.

Josephine stood and moved closer to Isabela by the wall. “No. You were disqualified.”

“Oh? On what grounds? I don’t think I broke any rules…”

Josephine simply pointed at a concealed card in Isabela’s neckline, barely visible.

“Oh dear, you caught me. How terrible.”                                                                                                    

“Terrible indeed. One would have thought you had learned to hide your cards better by now.”

“Ha, that’s not hidden. You should come and look for the others.”

Josephine giggled and shook her head. “Perhaps somewhere cleaner and less crowded?”

“Oh, I will hold you to that.” Isabela reached out and took hold of Josephine’s hand, gently squeezing it with calloused fingers, exploring her palm in the shortest of moments, running her thumb down to Josephine’s wrist.

“Oh! What’s this?” Isabela tucked a finger into Josephine’s sleeve and drew out the angel of death card. Her jaw dropped. “Tut tut, Lady Montilyet, what is this?!”

Josephine shrugged, “oh, just insurance.”

“Ooh, that’s definitely against the rules. You’re in trouble now…”

With a rush of movement, Isabela pinned Josephine against the wall; the incriminating card dropped to the floor and forgotten as she wrapped her muscled arm around Josephine’s waist and their lips met.

Her tongue traced Josephine’s bottom lip and the merchant whined, gripping her neck and pulling her in deeper. Isabela’s breath was hot and ragged, her teeth teasing Josephine’s lips, eliciting mewls of pleasure. The kiss softened until they stood still in a tender embrace, their brows pressed together and lips left aching and bruised.

Josephine slid her hand away from Isabela’s neck, overcome with shyness.

“I… That was… Well…”

Isabela smiled and caressed Josephine’s flushed cheek before kissing it gently. “Something, Petal. That was _something_. Come on, let’s find somewhere cleaner and less crowded.” She took her hand and led her out of the bustling tavern.


	6. Chapter Six

Antiva City had many bathhouses, but from the sailor’s information Josephine had guessed that El Tío was likely to be found in the most opulent. It was indeed in Josephine’s part of town, three blocks away from her estate to be precise. She had gone over the plan with Isabela several times since they had returned from the tavern, in amongst many distractions, and now they were ready. If he wasn’t here, they would head to the market and keep an ear out for Tevinter accents.

Isabela was armed to the teeth, not that anyone could see it. She had insisted that Josephine carry at least two concealed daggers, which was making her feel very nervous. The weight of the steel hung heavy below her tunic, and every step they had taken towards the bathhouse Josephine had felt convinced that the weapon would fall out or be discovered by a passer-by.

She pushed open the large gilded door and strode across the marble floor. She was well acquainted with this bathhouse, it being a popular haunt of her peers. They entered a large, grandly decorated hall with a clear pool of water that took up most of the space. Men and women were happily splashing and chatting with each other as the women walked past the ornate marble columns, listening intently.

“-hear about what his wife said-“

“-much cheaper, but what a smell!”

“-get a lot more for the young ones-“

Josephine stopped in her tracks and nudged Isabela, who narrowed her eyes and nodded. They each snuck behind a column to listen to the unctuous tones of a man speaking to someone.

“-give them a good kick and they shut up quickly.”

“El Tío?” Isabela stepped out from her cover, keeping a hand close by one of her daggers.

The man turned, black hair slicked back to reveal a cruel, harsh face. He smiled, baring his teeth.

“And who might you be?”

“Not your friend. Get up.” Her hand closed over the hilt of the dagger.

He laughed, loud barks devoid of joy and warmth. “Going to murder me in a room full of people? That will go down well, I’m sure.”

“Then get up, and we can do this privately,” Isabela caught Josephine’s eye, “and honourably.”

“Very well.”

He lifted himself out of the water and wrapped himself in a robe, taking his time tying it. He broke into a run and jumped out of the way of Isabela’s blade, diving through an archway.

“Come on!”

Isabela took off after him, slipping through the same archway into a narrow corridor, with Josephine close behind. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran and ducked through a door, slamming it shut.

Isabela reached the door and tried the handle; it was locked. She laughed and bent down, pulling a set of lockpicks from her belt.

“It’s ok, I’ve got this,” she whispered to Josephine as she got to work, deftly twisting the metal picks in the lock. “Just need to knock the key out…”

Josephine leaned against the wall just as Isabela cheered, “Got it!” and kicked open the door. They stepped inside. El Tío stood inside, backed into a dead end but clutching a sharp knife.

Isabela got into stance and gripped her dagger, facing El Tío. He lunged for her, their blades meeting with a shriek of metal. She kicked out and he recoiled in pain briefly, before riposting and catching her off her balance. Isabela fell to the floor, the blade slicing toward her throat. She contorted her body, twisting herself round and leaping to the rear of her assailant and kicking him back down. In a flash she grabbed another dagger from her person and clutched them both, ready to execute him.

The sound of a throat clearing made her pause for the shortest time, enough time for him to spin and face her. Josephine yelped, and without thinking leapt forward and kicked his sword arm, knocking the dagger to the ground. He gasped in pain and snarled at her, reaching for his weapon and crawling towards her. Josephine scrabbled through her pocket and grasped her dagger tentatively, before diving and grabbing his knife, keeping it well away from his clutches.

Isabela grabbed his neck and held her dagger firmly against it.

Josephine addressed him, “you are the captain of La Espina Rosa, yes?”

“yes.” El Tío’s voice came weakly in reply, gasping against the cut of veridium on his throat.

“Why have you been targeting House Montilyet?”

“I haven’t.”

“The evidence speaks for itself, you’ve damaged eight of my ships. Four attacks in total. I know it was your ship each time.”

“Yes. But I was targeting you, not your family.” He hissed.

Isabela jerked back his head. “Why?”

“Because, her work she was doing before. That Inquisition lot, they interfered where they had no right to. Killing off good mages and fighters, my customers, ruining my trade. We will make Tevinter great again, and do a lot better without people like you getting in our way.”

Josephine crossed her arms. “You mean to say, because the Inquisition tried to neutralise the Venatori threat, you are murdering people so that you can continue to enslave people and force them to support your cause?”

“Ah, the arrogance of you Southerners. All mages are threats and keeping people off the streets is evil. Of course.”

“You sell people as objects. You pack them into a ship and beat them. We’ve heard what you do. The Venatori were not a threat because they are mages, but because they were killing people and conspiring to destroy most of Thedas alongside a darkspawn. I will not have you sully the name of good people nor isolate me in the name of revenge. Isabela, tie him up. We must escort El Tío to the authorities and make sure he pays for his crimes.”

Isabela kept her dagger to his neck while she pulled out a coil of rope from her boot. Josephine knelt down to help her tie his arms back securely.

“Thanks, Petal. You sure we need to take him to the guards? I can get rid of him right here if you want. He doesn’t deserve to live.”

“No,” Josephine shook her head, “no more bloodshed. Besides, if our guest is as well-known and well-liked as he says, it will be more shameful for him to be named and kept in a secure cell and for everyone here to know who he really is. I’m sure with the help of the guards we can get the names of his customers here in Antiva City and make sure they are taken care of too.”

“Your call. Come on, get up,” she kicked at him and tugged on the ropes, pulling him to a standing position. “Lead the way, Petal!”


	7. Chapter Seven

Weeks had passed since they imprisoned El Tío. Isabela had found the ship in port, disguised with new sails, and broken into it. About fifty slaves were found living in squalor, frightened and locked into the hold. She had managed to lead them out to safety while Josephine charmed the guards and got as many of El Tío’s helpers imprisoned alongside him.

After that they had worked as a team to try and find out where the slaves had come from, with Isabela shipping them home to Rialto and Salle. Other slaves were harder to place; many had expressed horror at being returned to their home. Josephine did her best to speak with her contacts in the city and find them work, if she couldn’t place them in her crew. At least she could try to find them some form of income with trustworthy employers.

The sun was streaming through the open window, a light breeze blowing the smells of sea air and grapes into the room. Josephine was finishing off drawing up a contract for a young man looking to serve as cook on one of her ships when her office door flew open.

“Hello, Petal. Miss me?” Isabela swaggered through the door as Josephine jumped up and strode to meet her.

“Of course! Did the trip go as planned? I have the payment waiting in my safe for you.”

“Yes,” Isabela wrapped her arms around Josephine’s waist and kissed her, “I’ll get the coin later… because unless you have any more work to send me away with, I now have all the time in the world to do this.”

Josephine giggled as she removed Isabela’s hat and slid her fingers through her hair. “Lucky for me, all my work is done for today too.”

“Mm, good,” she ran her hand up Josephine’s back, “you know, we’ve made a good team this past month.”

“Yes, I quite agree…” Josephine murmured.

“I was thinking… I might stay here for a little while. If you’d like. You’re an interesting woman, Petal, and I think I’d like to spend some time _not_ working with you.” Isabela looked at Josephine with her golden eyes and caressed her cheek.

“I’d like that too,” Josephine stood on her tiptoes and kissed Isabela gently, hands still tangled in her hair, and gave a teasing smile. "Now, how would you like to lose a game of Wicked Grace?"

Isabela laughed, kissing Josephine in return. "Mm, I think I'd rather be disqualified..." 


End file.
